Countess Kate | Page 8

now she was too much elated and excited to sit down
quietly, or quite to know what she was about. She went skipping
restlessly about from one chair to another, chattering fast about what
she would do, and wondering what the aunts would be like, and what
Armyn would say, and what Charlie would say, and the watch she
would buy for Charlie, and the great things she was to do for
everybody--till Mary muttered something in haste, and ran out of the
room.
"I wonder why Mary is so cross," said Kate.
Poor Mary! No one could be farther from being cross; but she was
thoroughly upset. She was as fond of Kate as of her own sisters, and
was not only sorry to part with her, but was afraid that she would not be
happy or good in the new life before her.

CHAPTER II
.

The days passed very slowly with Kate, until the moment when she
was to go to London and take her state upon her, as she thought. Till
that should come to pass, she could not feel herself really a countess.
She did not find herself any taller or grander; Charlie teased her rather
more instead of less and she did not think either Mr. Wardour or Mary
or Armyn thought half enough of her dignity: they did not scruple to set
her down when she talked too loud, and looked sad instead of pleased
when she chattered about the fine things she should do. Mr. and Mrs.
Brown, to be sure, came to wish her good-bye; but they were so
respectful, and took such pains that she should walk first, that she grew
shy and sheepish, and did not like it at all.

She thought ease and dignity would come by nature when she was once
in London; and she made so certain of soon seeing Sylvia again, that
she did not much concern herself about the parting with her; while she
was rather displeased with Mary for looking grave, and not making
more of her, and trying to tell her that all might not be as delightful as
she expected. She little knew that Mary was grieved at her eagerness to
leave her happy home, and never guessed at the kind sister's fears for
her happiness. She set it all down to what she was wont to call
crossness. If Mary had really been a cross or selfish person, all she
would have thought of would have been that now there would not be so
many rents to mend after Kate's cobbling attempts, nor so many shrill
shrieking laughs to disturb Papa writing his sermon, nor so much
difficulty in keeping any room in the house tidy, nor so much pinching
in the housekeeping. Instead of that, Mary only thought whether
Barbara and Lady Jane would make her little Kate happy and good. She
was sure they were proud, hard, cold people; and her father had many
talks with her, to try to comfort her about them.
Mr. Wardour told her that Kate's grandfather had been such a grief and
shame to the family, that it was no wonder they had not liked to be
friendly with those he had left behind him. There had been help given
to educate the son, and some notice had been taken of him, but always
very distant; and he had been thought very foolish for marrying when
he was very young, and very ill off. At the time of his death, his uncle,
Colonel Umfraville, had been very kind, and had consulted earnestly
with Mr. Wardour what was best for the little orphan; but had then
explained that he and his wife could not take charge of her, because his
regiment was going to India, and she could not go there with them; and
that his sisters were prevented from undertaking the care of so young a
child by the bad health of the elder, who almost owed her life to the
tender nursing of the younger. And as Mrs. Wardour was only eager to
keep to herself all that was left of her only sister, and had a nursery of
her own, it had been most natural that Kate should remain at St. James's
Parsonage; and Mr. Wardour had full reason to believe that, had there
been any need, or if he had asked for help, the aunts would have gladly
given it. He knew them to be worthy and religious women; and he told
Mary that he thought it very likely that they might deal better with
Kate's character than he had been able to do. Mary knew she herself

had made mistakes, but she could not be humble for her father, or think
any place more improving than under his roof.